


Hotel Rooms

by Persiflage



Series: Skoulson RomFest 2k16 Redux [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flash Fic, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Hotel Sex, Inhumans (Marvel), Inspired By Tumblr, Light Bondage, Naked Female Clothed Male, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Rope Bondage, Skoulson RomFest 2k16 REDUX, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:44:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson gets himself captured by an Inhuman with interesting consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel Rooms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> Flash fic written (as a bonus) for the Skoulson RomFest 2k16 REDUX, for the Day 1 prompt 'Hotel Rooms', inspired by this [Tumblr post](http://becketted.tumblr.com/post/147583966633).

Phil Coulson is not the kind of man who usually wakes up in a strange bed in a strange room, and he's definitely not the kind to wake up tied to the bed frame. He sits very still, his arms stretched out to either side of him, ropes fastening his wrists to the metal bar along the top of the frame. He can't see them, of course, because he's been blindfolded, but he can feel them, and he can't help wondering what the hell is going on. He doesn't remember anything of the last few hours, which means he's been unconscious, presumably knocked out by whomever had tied him up.

He's fully clothed, which is a relief – wearing jeans and a tank but his jacket's been removed, as have his boots and his socks – he can feel slightly chilly air on his toes.

When 10 minutes have passed without anyone coming to threaten him, he finds he's grown bored with the situation. "Hello?"

There's no reply, not even a stir of air in the room that indicates someone's there, and he huffs out a sigh, then tries to remember what he was doing before he was knocked unconscious.

Chasing Daisy, is the immediate answer, of course, because what else has he been doing these last 10 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days, but chasing after Daisy – trying to keep the rest of the ATCU (into which President Ellis has merged SHIELD), the FBI, the CIA, the Watchdogs, and any and all other interested parties, away from Daisy so she can concentrate on doing her job.

He remembers going to investigate a report of an Inhuman – but not of Daisy, or so he'd thought when he'd first seen the sparse details. Someone else. Someone new. He and Mack had gone together, just the two of them for once, rather than with a vanload of other agents too. 

"Mack?" He calls his partner's name loudly, then waits, half-hoping to hear a groan, but half-hoping not to.

Nothing again.

He sighs. He can only assume from his current predicament that he and Mack found the Inhuman, though he has no memory of that – although… He waits, something stirring like a fish in the depths of his memory. Yes. There was a woman – 6 foot 2 in red spiked high heels that matched a long red dress with slits up the sides so that the woman flashed skin as she walked, and a low cut cleavage that her breasts threatened to spill out of. And killer red hair with sharp green eyes. He remembers her holding his chin, her long, red nails slightly squeezing his jaw as she gazed down into his eyes.

He jerks against the ropes as he finds himself remembering that she'd kissed him, and he gets an echo of a burning, tingling sensation on his lips – a physical sensation, not an emotional or psychological one. Drugged lipstick, he guesses, rather appalled at the idea. 

He's just wondering how long he'll have to sit here – his shoulders are beginning to ache – when a gust of air flows into the room, and he hears light footsteps across the floor.

"Phil," says a familiar voice near his ear, and the blindfold is tugged down leaving him to blink rapidly as his eyes adjust to the light after the darkness. "Are you okay?"

"Daisy," he breathes, and takes in the fact that the bed is sitting in the middle of the room – a hotel room, as far as he can tell. "How did you find me?"

She snorts. "All that tech in your arm," she says. "I traced it."

"What happened to tall, red and dangerous?" he asks, and she laughs softly at that, clearly genuinely amused.

"I took her out," she says. "Just unconscious, not dead." The last remark is made in response to whatever expression is on his face, he judges from the way she's looking at him. "I take it she kissed you, too?"

"Me too?" he asks, confused. "Who else?"

"Well Mack," she says, "but I – well, my partner, was able to grab him and get him away but she shot me."

"Daisy?" he questions, looking her over in a panicky way.

She snorts again. "Relax, Phil. She shot me – I didn't say she hurt me. I used my powers to stop the bullet, and her. But when I went to grab her, she grabbed me – kissed me, too." She lifts a hand and rubs it over her lips. "She didn't have much of her sleep-inducing lipstick left by then, so I wasn't out as long – although it was long enough for her to get away and bring you here."

She snarls beside him, and he looks around, startled, to see she's struggling to untie the ropes. "She's done something to the ropes," Daisy tells him. "Coated them with something and I can't get any purchase on them to untie them. And they appear to be impervious to being cut, too." She folds up the pocket knife she's been trying to cut the ropes with.

"Oh." He supposes he ought to feel alarmed, but he doesn't – he's too pleased to see Daisy in person, to be talking to her, to feel much alarm – especially when she's already taken down the Inhuman who put him in this position.

"You've got a nasty bruise," she tells him, and he feels her thumb pressing lightly against the nape of his neck. It sends a shiver through his body, and her hand, which had been tracing lightly along his collarbone, pauses, then resumes.

"Phil." Her voice is low and husky, now, and it stirs something in him, makes him want her, and he's embarrassed to realise he's getting hard. Then her mouth is pressing against his skin, and he can't restrain a moan as she trails kisses along his shoulder.

She scrapes her teeth against his skin, and his body jerks reflexively. 

"Fuck, Daisy."

She moves quickly around the bed and kneels on the side, staring down at him. He stares up at her, almost blind with lust, and then her mouth is on his, and he groans loudly as he feels her unfastening his jeans and freeing his increasingly stiff cock.

"You want this, Phil?" she asks, her hand curled loosely around his erection, her lips hovering over his again.

"Yes," he gasps. "Yes. Please, Daisy. I want you."

"Good boy," she whispers, and moves away from him long enough to shed her jeans and panties, then the tank she's wearing with it. He groans again as she settles herself, naked now, over him, and when she guides his stiff prick into her slick heat, he is reduced to swearing under his breath.

"Phil." She groans his name as he fills her, then she clasps his shoulders and kisses him hungry and fast, all teeth and tongue, as she rides him, her body moving rapidly up and down until she comes to a halt, her muscles tightening around his dick, and then they're both coming, which startles him. He can't remember the last time he climaxed simultaneously with someone.

She kisses him more softly as they both come down from their orgasms, then she turns her head and flicks her fingers at the ropes on his left wrist, and they unravel rapidly. She smirks at him, then repeats the gesture with his right wrist.

As soon as both arms are free, he wraps them around her body, and kisses her, and she moans, then rocks against him – his softening cock is still buried inside her.

"Oh yeah," she says softly in his ear. "Happy Valentine's Day, Phil."

That startles him into laughter, and she smirks at him, then lifts herself off his lap, and he strips, then they make their way into the ensuite bathroom to get themselves cleaned up.

"The Inhuman with the dodgy lipstick – " he begins.

"Famke," she tells him as she starts soaping his back. "Russian-born, chemistry major, and brought up on a diet of James Bond movies. She'd always wanted to be a Bond villainness. Some people can't help living up to stereotypes, it seems. Oh yeah - she wanted to be known as Famke the Femme Fatale."

He snorts, rolling his eyes although she can't see. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. People, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighs.

Once they've showered, which takes an unnecessarily long time because of all the kissing and touching that they indulge in, they dress again. 

"I'm going to leave the way I came in," she tells him – and gestures to the balcony. He walks over and glances out, then gapes at her, because they're about 20 storeys up. She smirks at him, then walks up to him, and curls her hand around the back of his neck. "If you're a good boy, Phil, I'll let you watch."

He groans at the innuendo, even as she kisses him again. "I'll be very good," he promises, and she chuckles.

"I'll see you again, soon," she says. "Promise."

"Stay safe, Daisy," he says, aware he sounds a bit desperate.

"Do my best," she tells him. "And don't go kissing any strange girls, okay?"

"I'll save all my kisses for you," he tells her earnestly, and she snorts with laughter, brushes her nose against his, then steps out onto the balcony, and he watches in awe as she turns in a circle, vibrating the air beneath both outstretched palms, then uses the vibrating air to boost herself upwards, a bit like Superman leaping tall buildings, but way cooler, and sexier, if he's honest.

He's not sure what he's going to tell Talbot when he gets back, but he'll think of something, he's sure. Harder still will be not saying too much to either Mack or May. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Daisy," he whispers, even though she's already gone. He turns around and grabs his jacket, checks his ICER and other stuff is all still in his pockets, then he lets himself out of the room. This has been quite the most unusual Valentine's Day he's ever had.

(It’s only much later that he remembers that she mentioned she has a partner, and he has no idea who that might be.)


End file.
